


True Love

by Ephy



Series: Like a fairy tale [3]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Dick/Bruce, Background Lex/Jason, Insanity, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3480422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephy/pseuds/Ephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Birds</i> are <i>mine. Didn't I tell you so?</i></p><p>“She wants you to <i>abandon</i> me. In a box. At the side of the road. While you go on holidays in some sunny place where birds aren’t allowed”, Tim stated in his saddest voice.<br/>“Nonsense”, the Joker answered. “You’re no bird. You’re a cat! Or maybe a real boy.”<br/>“I’m not made of wood?” Tim made himself sound surprised. “Does that mean I behaved?”<br/>The Joker laughed.<br/>“Yes, you did!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White as snow

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Le Véritable Amour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481997) by [Fyin (Ephy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephy/pseuds/Fyin)



Harley Quinn was moaning. And begging. And _pouting_.

Tim started to feel annoyed.

“But _Puddin’!_ ” she shrieked in that horrible voice of hers. “You’ve been away for _months!_ Now that you’re finally back, can’t we have some _little_ fun?”

How could someone have such a shifting tone? Most of the words she said were merely childish then, from time to time, one syllable reached a note only equaled by a chalk’s screech on a blackboard.

Was that why she wore black-and-white make up? To look like chalk? How tasteless.

“I know!” she kept going. “There is a _fair_ next town? Shall we go? Just the _two_ of us!”

At that point, Tim made his move. Yawning, he looked up from the pillow his head was resting on, saw the Joker sitting at the edge of the bed, and crawled toward him to curl against his high like a cat. Soon, a strong hand started petting his hair. He didn’t need to watch to know the Joker was smiling.

“Maybe next time.”

Tim also didn’t need to check if Haley was glaring at him. He smiled lazily and started purring. Petting turned to caress, as planned.

“ _That’s enough!_ ” Harley howled. “You’re _always_ with him! I was there _first!_ ”

“Oh, pumkin’, you know it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it? He sleeps with you! He _wears your clothes!_ ”

Tim frowned. He had started stealing the Joker’s suit jackets because they were so much colorful than the sepia tones reserved to his own clothes. Moreover, they bore the Joker’s smell, which reassured him.

Five months ago, they had moved to another flat with real doors and windows – but Tim didn’t dare to get out of it. They both had a bedroom and the Joker spent most of his evenings with him, sometimes sleeping there, sometimes not. Whenever he was away, Tim felt waves of panic at the idea he might not come back – hence, the smell, the clothes.

Besides, they were pretty.

“Isn’t he a perfectly behaved pet?” the Joker laughed, delighted.

“If he’s just a pet, he should wear a _leash!_ ”

“Harleen doesn’t like me”, Tim complained.

She hated it when he used her first name.

“Because _Tim_ is a _brat!_ ”

On the other hand, he didn’t like it when she used _his_. But contrarily to her, he pretended not to care.

“She wants you to _abandon_ me. In a box. At the side of the road. While you go on holidays in some sunny place where birds aren’t allowed”, Tim stated in his saddest voice.

“Nonsense”, the Joker answered. “You’re no bird. You’re a cat! Or maybe a real boy.”

“I’m not made of wood?” Tim made himself sound surprised. “Does that mean I behaved?”

The Joker laughed.

“Yes, you did!”

“So my _nose_ won’t _grow_ anymore?”

It was a very bad joke. The Joker laughed so much he almost fell from the bed.

“I will make sure it keeps growing whenever I want it to, my dear.”

Tim uncurled to press himself against the Joker’s side shamelessly.

“Like now?”

To his dismay, the Joker didn’t like sex so much. Most of the time, he would just cut off Tim’s clothes and caress him, apparently curious of the noises he could obtain. Often, he wouldn’t allow him to come; he loved to be begged.

But Tim knew how to make him _want_ it. He rubbed against the Joker’s pocket, where he kept his gun.

“I can feel you’re happy to see me”, Tim pretended.

The Joker’s grin turned from amused to dangerous. Harley straightened.

“We could have _pop-corn_?” she tried helplessly. “Put blades in the candy floss?”

“Done there, seen that. But I’ll spend tomorrow afternoon with you, what do you think? Find us some bank to rob in style.”

She pursed her lips, but soon jumped to her feet.

“Of course, puddin’! It will be the _best_ time _ever!_ ”

The gun’s barrel was in Tim’s mouth for him to suck even before the door closed on her.

#### ***

To wear bright colors when you were supposed to hide in the shadows meant either you were an imbecile or you were really good. Damian knew in which category he belonged and was proud to finally clip Robin’s black and yellow cape around his neck, making ready for his first official patrol.

He was above being excited by this important step but he allowed himself some degree of eagerness. After all, this would not only be Robin’s comeback on the roofs after several months – an _upgraded_ version of Robin, obviously – but also his first patrol at his father’s side. Damian would make sure that it would be _perfect_.

And he was used to perfection. There was no need to feel nervous.

He still double-checked his weapons and his belt’s equipment. The light armor of the new Robin suit had been tested but it was the first time he wore it all, mask included. It was adapted to his body and face as if he had worn it several times already; Alfred did good work.

Damian checked the Batcomputer – such a childish name, certainly chosen by Grayson – just in case any alarm had been raised already. He couldn’t wait for his father to arrive. They should not be late today! Nor ever. But especially not today.

Finally, the Batman appeared. Damian straightened, ready to take any order, but his father barely paused in front of him.

“Get into the Batmobile.”

Damian pursed his lips but obeyed promptly. This was his chance to prove how good he was; he wasn’t to spoil it by behaving like a child. He didn’t even propose to drive even though it would certainly be thrilling, considering the car’s performances. He was not doing this because it was thrilling, but because it was his place as Batman’s rightful heir.

His father started the engine and, soon, they were blurring through Gotham. Damian didn’t say a word, concentrating on their point of arrival. They were to hide the Batmobile in Park Row and move downtown, then come back up following the river eastside. Even if someone found the car, no one would dare to touch it, Grayson had told him. ‘Except if someone tries to steal its tires’, Todd had added, but evidently he had just been his usual annoying self: the car was protected.

They stopped in the empty alley and got out. Batman grappled; Damian followed without being told. He had studied their route but of course Batman would lead the way.

It _did_ feel a little bit thrilling.

They stumbled upon their first mugging not five minutes later. Finally, some action! Batman dropped, cape opened like wings, and Damian followed without a second of hesitation. There were two of them – in ten seconds, both were disposed of, stunned, and Damian was letting the woman take her bag back.

She didn’t stay to ask questions. Instead, she gripped her bag and ran away.

Damian rolled his eyes. People from this city really _were_ scum. He didn’t voice his doubts, though, and joined Batman’s side to help him tie the offenders to a lamp post. They took off again as soon as it was done, in perfect silence.

Were they to be left in the street like this? They certainly deserved it, Damian thought.

But no – Batman activated his com to the Cave, where Grayson was on duty.

“Two thieves at the corner of High and Timber.”

Damian quickly activated his own com link to hear the answer.

“… in a few minutes”, Grayson was saying.

“Good. Batman off.”

They resumed their route, silent again. Damian was feeling… not precisely annoyed or tensed but _itchy_. Should he have waited on the rooftop? Certainly not; he was a trained assassin, after all, and even his father cleared him for duty. They had just been easy to handle and didn’t deserve any comment.

The next half hour crawled by with nothing happening, long and dull. After a while, Damian took the lead: he was supposed to show how much of a good Robin he was and would not manage that by doing nothing. At least, he ought to prove he knew the route by heart and had no problem moving around by himself.

Then finally he saw some action: a small group of gangsters harassing a couple of teenage girls. Damian dropped without being prompted, ready to help, and started disarming the most aggressive men. He saw light reflected on metal and kicked a gun away without the weapon being fired. Soon, Batman joined the crowd, and they were fighting and moving together, like during training, only better – because this time, they _really_ were Batman and Robin!

They managed to secure the villains without any complication. The girls were shaken, but unarmed; Batman still checked on them and asked them to call the cops themselves before grappling to a rooftop nearby. Damian followed, feeling deeply satisfied.

Then Batman turned to him in fury.

“What did you think you were doing?” he growled.

Damian tensed. Annoyance soon replaced his shock while he thought about his answer, reviewing the fight in his mind. He had done nothing wrong!

“You intervened without being ordered to, in a situation involving both civilians and guns! You did not take the time to make sure they were safe before jumping on their aggressors, exposing them to their wrath. _What were you thinking?_ ”

Damian felt a wave of – disappointment, it had to be disappointment because _fury_ would be foolish. And fairness had nothing to do with the mission so protesting about it would have been useless. It still hurt.

“Apparently you weren’t thinking _at all_ ”, Batman noted at his lack of answer.

Damian gritted his teeth.

“I went knowing you would take care of the civilians! There were only six of them, I was perfectly able to fight them even on my own…”

“One of which had a _gun_.”

“Which I took care of less than ten second after engagement!”

“Ten seconds were more than enough for him to fire.”

Damian glared. This time, it _was_ fury and he didn’t care.

“Who are you seeing when you look at me, exactly?” he snapped. Then, changing his voice to use Drake’s: “Should I speak to you like you expect your Robin to? And also make the same errors?”

Batman’s eyes widened behind the cowl. Damian smirked.

“ _I_ am Robin”, he said in his own voice. “I don’t do silly mistakes.”

They stood there for a few seconds, staring at each other. Then Batman lean over him.

“Go. Back. To. The Cave.”

He turned around and grappled away to continue his patrol, leaving Damian behind.

Damian headed back to the manor. It was outside the city walls, but not far away; he could walk. He had to reach the road first, anyhow. Finding his way into the Cave shouldn’t be too hard considering he knew where the entrance was hidden. At worst, he would get into the manor and in the Cave through the clock.

He was not hurt. Only disappointed. To be sent back like a disobedient child… _He was better than Drake_.

He would prove it, eventually.

He was almost back to Park Row when he felt movement in his back. He dodged, the batarang leaving his hand by reflex – uselessly; a black and blue mass hugged him as if he was the stuffed pet of some sleepless toddler.

“Grayson!” Damian yelped. “Weren’t you supposed to be on monitoring duty?”

“I got bored”, Nightwing answered with a big grin. “I thought I would join you instead.”

Damian cringed.

“I don’t need a babysitter, I _am_ going back, I…”

“No need. I talked with big B., he grunted his approval when I told him I needed some air and company. We’ll take care of the eastside while he finishes the westside, alright?”

Damian narrowed his eyes but there was nothing to read on Nightwing’s masked face, except for his usual mischief. It wouldn’t be the same in Batman’s absence, but still – Damian had to admit he had hoped for this night to last longer.

“If father gave his approval…”

“He totally did. Let’s go!”

Grayson flew away like if he really was a bird. Damian grumbled before his flips and laughs. Weren’t they supposed to be discreet?

And they were not following the planned route.

“Were are we going?” Damian asked.

“To the station!”

No explanation followed. Damian sighed with exasperation.

“Why the station? Has something happened? Who is on monitoring duty if you left?”

“Jay is doing it remotely, and Babs is on it too.”

“We are not supposed to use those names during patrol”, Damian pointed out.

“Says the one who called me _Grayson_ ”, Dick mocked. “Also, Jay actually is a codename.”

Damian rolled his eyes.

“Don’t tell me. You choose it for him.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Anyone else would have chosen _mockingbird_ , which is much more fitting.” Or _pigeon_.

Nightwing actually blinked at that.

“Mockingbird… I like it!”

“It was _not_ a suggestion.”

Thankfully, they were reaching the station. The building was easy to climb and gave a good view of the platforms. Grayson didn’t stop at the top but kept going until he almost reached the train – then just jumped on it.

Damian started in disbelief.

“Come on, Robin!”

It was _evil_ from him to use that name just to tempt him. On the other hand, Damian guessed he had some right to, since he had been the one creating the role in the first place. He joined him just as the train started to leave. Grayson grinned madly.

“Care to tell me what we are doing here?” Damian enquired.

“We are train-surfing! It’s a tradition for Nightwing and Robin’s first patrol.”

And the fool _stood_ while the train speeded.

“It’s a very good exercise for you balance”, he added.

“My balance doesn’t need exercising”, Damian protested, and stood to prove it.

The wind, the speed were exhilarating. It was not as good as being at his father side, but it might have been worth not going back to the Cave, Damian admitted. The tracks curved and so did they, making one with their unaware mount.

Damian realized he was smiling and quickly went back to a more respectable expression. Too late; Grayson saw him and grinned even more. How did he not tear a muscle?

“Don’t forget to look at the streets”, Nightwing commented. “If we see something going on, we jump to take a look.”

“Jumping. From the train. You are insane.”

“It’s just a matter of coordination, I’m sure you’d manage.”

“ _Of course_ I will. But if this is a tradition, I assume you did the same with my predecessors?”

Nightwing didn’t darken, exactly, but his smile took a sad shade which Damian didn’t like at all. He probably should have refrained from mentioning Drake, even in such an indirect way.

“Well, they had to learn, didn’t they?” Grayson answered easily. “It’s not easy for him, you know.”

He was not talking about Drake, obviously, nor Todd. Damian gritted his teeth.

“Which doesn’t give him the right to act so stupidly, we all agree, and don’t worry I’m going to set Kal on him”, Grayson added with some satisfaction.

Damian almost winced in sympathy. Kal El could be _really_ annoying and was as likely to drop a subject as a crocodile to free a prey after having taken the first bite. Todd had told him with some awe that Lois Lane was even worse; Damian was positive he did not want to meet her.

“Anyway, he will get used to it. He wants you at his side. Just give him some time.”

Damian straightened.

“ _Of course_ he does. Even if he did not, it is just a matter of time before he realize I am the perfect partner for him.”

Grayson grinned – then seemed to see something, and grinned even more.

“Looks like there’s trouble over there!” he exclaimed with joy. “Time to show off, Robin. You ready?”

Damian smirked.

“Always.”

And they jumped.

#### ***

Jason removed his magnifying glasses when he heard the distinctive sound of the Bat-com’: someone wanted to talk to him. He dragged his laptop closer to take a look. It was Babs, on her private line. No emergency, then, but she was one of the few from whom he would accept and even welcome the interruption.

He changed his status from ‘busy’ to ‘available’ and Babs’ astonished face appeared on the screen. Now, he knew why she called.

“Hello, beautiful”, he said. “How are you doing?”

“Did you really _steal Superman’s armor?_ ”

Jason snorted. Said armor was spread on the working table in all its glorious red and blue – the damn thing didn’t have a scratch despite several experiments. He fully intended to ask Lex for some of his toys in order to finally take a sample.

“My reputation is overrated”, he answered. “I _asked_ him to lend it to me and he agreed.”

“Alright. Did you really _asked Superman to lend you his armor?_ ” Babs corrected.

That pulled a laugh out of Jason.

“Yeah, I did. ‘was even polite about it.”

“He _needs_ it, howdidyoumanageIwantittoo!”

“I had good arguments.”

“ _Jay!_ ”

Jason grinned.

“Sorry, none you could use for yourself. I want to understand how it works to make one for Kon.”

“I could _help_ you!”

“Care to spend a few months in Metropolis?”

“He cannot possibly have loaned it to you for _several months_.”

“Six, actually. He said he had managed without for years before finding the fortress and would just fetch it in case of real emergency, such as an alien invasion or something. I promised I would leave it in an accessible place and would not let Lex play with it.”

Babs moaned in frustration.

“You are _working on alien technology_.”

“It’s far above my level”, Jason sighed. “But since _no one_ knows how it works, Kal included…”

“He is depending on _tech he doesn’t know_?”

They exchanged the tired glance of two Bats talking about any other hero. Except for Diana, of course, and the very few ones who had received any training whatsoever before deciding to play the costumed vigilantes. Not that they were not capable; they just sometimes had the most civilian reflexes.

“Do you really think you could replicate it?” Babs asked.

Jason shook his head.

“Of course not. We don’t have the technology nor the needed materials. But to understand enough from it to create something similar? Well, maybe. In a few years, anyway.”

She nodded. She was looking at him with expectation, which was new. Jason kind of liked it.

“Hey, let’s not celebrate before I actually _manage_ anything, alright?”

She grinned.

“I’m sure you will. What shade of green is Lex?”

“Only a really light one. After all, this is for his son, and he might manage to do something about what I find anyway.”

“How green is _Bruce?_ ”

Jason shrugged.

“Unhappy with the armor being unavailable, but he doubts anyone can pull anything out of it. So, he’s mostly okay with this.”

Babs _looked_ at him. Jason grinned. Of course, she was right: this was only half the truth. He timed his request with Damian starting his patrols, which meant Bruce had other things on his mind.

“Do you know how it’s going for the little bird?” Jason asked. “Dick didn’t say anything, which means it was bad, but I don’t want to ask for details.”

“Bruce was Bruce”, Barbara groaned. “But Dick finished the patrol with the kid, so, all is well. They have been patrolling all three together ever since. I guess Dick intends to make sure Bruce behaves before giving him another chance.”

Jason rolled his eyes.

“The brat doesn’t know his luck. Learning to handle Bruce is part of being Robin.”

“Until now, Bruce didn’t have a boyfriend”, Babs pointed out. “Bruce-handling is Dick’s job, now.”

“Ah, well”, Jason sighed. “He’s always been the ultimate Robin, hasn’t he?”

There was almost no bitterness left at this statement. Strange how things changed, Jason thought. At some point in time, he really had thought being Robin would be his life forever. All Robin thought that, he guessed.

“So. What are the news on your side?” he asked.

“Nothing as thrilling as _working on Superman’s armor_. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“’Will teach you to call more often”, Jason teased.

She made a face.

“Am I the one who moved out of the city? Am I the one who _promised_ I would _call often?_ ” she accused.

“Well, I have been busy, you know, with _Superman’s armor_ ”, Jason answered.

Her expression of disgusted fury was not entirely faked. Jason smile softened. She was right; he should have called sooner. He had not wanted to have anything to do with Gotham since he had left – thinking about it lead to thinking about Tim, and that was just too painful.

However, Babs wasn’t Gotham. She deserved better.

Maybe he should suggest to meet for lunch one of those days? He could convince Lex to give him a day off. He might even get an interesting night over it – to compensate for his absence, allegedly.

Before he could formulate his proposition, though, Babs frowned.

“Sorry, it’s just a warning. Shooting in the docks. Dick should be able to…”

She paled.

“What?” he asked urgently.

“I’ve got to go”, she said, already getting up. “It’s the Joker.”

#### ***

The sex had been _horrible_. Tim supposed – _hoped_ – it would get better: they had both been virgins, after all. The Joker had also acted like a petulant child but _that_ certainly would not change. In the meantime, Tim noted to search for documentation.

But before that, more urgent measures had to be taken. Tim got up.

“I’m going to shower.”

“ _Excellent_ idea”, the Joker agreed, looking more disgusted than satisfied even though _he_ had come. “Let’s do that.”

He joined Tim, much to Tim’s surprised. They had touched each other a few times and shared a bed whenever the Joker was in the mood, but they certainly never had showered together.

Well, Tim wasn’t about to protest. Memories of boiling water and snakes kept haunting him whenever he was alone in a bathroom. But with the Joker there – nothing would happen. He would be safe.

The hot water unknotted his muscles delightfully, especially after the strain they had endured. There had to be a way to do this properly – and _cleanly_ , for God’s sake. After all, people were supposed to find it _pleasant_.

(He would make sure _he_ would, too, starting next time.)

He rinsed the soap from his porcelain-white skin, then noticed some green in the water. Strange, he did not feel the usual itch from the acid and it wasn’t the correct shade of green anyway. Then he looked up, and froze.

The Joker’s hair was red. Or, well, some strange mix of orange and half-rinsed green. And his face – his face was white, like Tim’s, but the lips were not red anymore, and most of his overstretched smile had disappeared.

 _Make-up_. It had been make-up.

The Joker face was still sharp, Tim decided. And too white, of course, but… It looked _human_ , in a Michael Jackson’s way. With some foundation he would look perfectly normal, no one would look at him twice in the streets.

(The Joker was human.)

It was a bit weird. And a bit scary.

“Sad, isn’t it?” the Joker said. “I really ought to find a better brand. Really, why don’t people create long-lasting green hair dye, mh?”

“So you can put on this mask to go for a walk from time to time?” Tim suggested.

That earned him a wicked smile, almost as good as with the make-up on – with the Joker’s _real_ face on.

“Good boy. I _knew_ I had good reason for keeping you around.”

Tim pouted. _Of course_ he had good reasons to! But he was no Harleen: he wouldn’t complain about the Joker’s lack of attention.

“If I had access to a computer, I would look into this to make it better next time”, he pointed out instead.

It would be a computer or books, and he would rather have access to the whole internet instead than to one silly magazine if this was to be _some_ of an exhaustive search. Well, _exhaustive_ would be impossible, considering the amount of data which could be found on _that_ topic in one single search, but well.

“Of course”, the Joker answered, getting out of the shower to dress in a purple bathrobe. “My laptop must be over there, somewhere.”

Tim stole the matching towel to put it around his waist. A computer… It had been, how many months? His fingers were shaking with need. He found the laptop and sat on the bed where the Joker was collapsing. There was no need to wear his jacket with his smell still strong on the bed so Tim stayed in that state of undress. The Joker’s hands found Tim’s hips, making him grin despite their previous misadventure. He opened a browser and started looking.

(He could just take a look.)

(Just one.)

Maybe _something_ was left from… _before_ , because one of the tabs was no gay forum nor Doctissimo stupid advices, but a newspaper. Tim’s smile disappeared from his lips. Two familiar shadows were jumping from a rooftop on the front page, one of which should _not have been there_.

Batman and Robin. _Batman and Robin_.

(Batman needed a Robin!)

(This is a good thing.)

( _But Robin is dead!_ )

(No, he isn’t. _He_ was, which wasn’t the same, obviously. (And he wasn’t _really_ dead anyway or else, how would he be talking?))

Bruce had another kid – Bruce had abandoned him – but he already knew that! He did! _He DID! He was the Joker’s now!!!_

But that Robin – that _new Robin_ – it wasn’t right. It was. Not. Right.

Because Robin _couldn’t kill! Could not! Could. NOT!_

And this, this could only be one person, only one in the whole world.

 _Damian_.

(Damian. (Only him.))

And Damian _was an assassin_. He had _killed._

He could be no Robin.

No. ROBIN!

A crashing sound, the picture disappeared. Then Tim blinked and realized he had thrown the computer to the wall.

“Woops”, he said, unrepentant.

The anger was still there, pulsing, screaming with rage inside his chest. He got up to reach the lamp, throwing it as well. Then the pillow – which proved to be very unsatisfactory, considering the lack of noise – then the alarm, then a vase. The Joker was watching him, bored.

“I kind of like that lamp”, he commented.

“He made a _killer_ Robin!” Tim yelled, too furious to keep it inside.

“Indeed”, the Joker said, not pretending not to know. “He’s boring. A real brat. I don’t like him.”

Tim gritted his teeth. The Joker considered him, then took a gun from nightstand’s drawer.

“There, shoot something. It always calms me down.”

Tim took the gun and shot at the walls.

“It doesn’t help!”

It did, a bit, because the noise matched his anger, but not quite enough.

“Walls are dull. Do this through the window”, the Joker suggested.

Tim opened it, not caring about being half naked, and shot outside. One passerby was hit and fell on the ground with a cry; the others started screaming and ran away. Tim sighed with relief.

“You’re right”, he said, closing the window. “If was satisfying.”

The Joker was grinning with delight. Tim joined him, curling against him, and sighed again when he felt his arms around his waist. He felt a kiss on his jaw. Unfortunately, the Joker didn’t keep going.

“Come on, darling. You have to dress up. We will have company soon and you are in no state to entertain them. Yet.”

Tim pouted but knew he was right. He stole the Joker’s pants and jacket, put a hat on his head and a smile on his face. The Joker kissed him, clothing himself in the same clothes from another set.

“Go, darling. Go. I will keep them busy while you run. See you at the warehouse.”

“See you soon”, Tim answered, and kissed him goodbye before he started running.


	2. Black as ebony

Not only was Gotham depraved, but so were the whole United States, Damian was starting to think. Why else would they allow their children to roam the streets, tricking and yelling, like undisciplined peasants? Especially dressed-up in such way that hardly differentiated them from foes.

If a villain was to show up to kill them all, it would be hard not to say they called it upon themselves.

“Stop brooding”, Nightwing said, landing next to him. “Next year, I’ll ask Babs to take up the earliest part of patrol so we can go ringing a few bells, ourselves.”

“I am not crude as to go beg for sweets I can very well buy for myself!” Damian protested. “And you should stop using names while we are on duty.”

“It’s not like there isn’t at least ten Nightwings in the crowd downstairs”, the older man pointed out.

Damian tutted his disapproval. One would have to be blind to mistake the muscular, gracious man at his side with any of the pretenders above. Or any of them, for that matter. He certainly wasn’t a clumsy child, himself!

“I don’t see why father wouldn’t have me handle my usual patrol route”, Damian grumbled instead.

“Several of the usual suspects are likely to act on a day like Halloween”, Grayson explained, as patient as he had not said so several times already since Batman had made his decision known to Damian.

“I could take them!”

“I guess thinking so is part of being Robin”, Grayson admitted in a slightly amused tone.

How dare he compare Damian again and again with his predecessors! But Grayson shook his head before he could protest out loud.

“I was talking about myself. The first time I was really afraid for my life – for Batman’s life, in danger because of me… It happened precisely because I tried to take one of those by myself. I hope you will learn to trust our advice concerning your strength before experiencing something like that.”

Damian straightened, annoyed at his patronizing. He _knew_ his strength, and could demonstrate it if only they didn’t shelter him so!

“It was Two-Face”, Grayson kept going. “I was scared shitless. You really should be more aware of danger.”

“Huh. If you wanted to label me as a child and keep me away from danger, maybe you shouldn’t have make me Robin”, Damian pointed out.

Grayson laughed at that.

“Like _you_ of all Robins would have been safe if you hadn’t started the job.”

Damian snorted. At least Nightwing was aware of that.

They resumed their route but the whole conversation left Damian unsatisfied. Grayson always told him he knew how strong he was, and yet he would keep babysitting him. How could Damian prove his worth if he was to stay down at any danger? He _was_ able to vanquish Two-Face, or even the Joker! If he could show them as much, they would finally show him the respect he deserved.

Unfortunately, the Joker had not shown himself since summer. And even that last time, Damian had been ordered to go back to the Cave – and not even _that_ had he been allowed to do alone! Nightwing had followed him while Batman and Batgirl handled the villain. They had not even managed to arrest him: he had gotten away, as he would _not_ if only they had allowed Damian to help!

“Stop brooding, or I’m calling Jay so _he_ can tell you to stop.”

“Since when do you need his help to assert your authority?” Damian mocked.

Nightwing stuck his tongue out, always the mature one. Damian rolled his eyes and landed on some gargoyle to look around. It was still early and the streets were full of people; there was little chance of anything happening at this hour.

Fireworks exploded above their heads, making Damian jump. How _careless_ were they to provide such a noisy cover for any criminal who would be up to no good!

“Let’s move”, Grayson said, obviously agreeing with his point of view though since he didn’t point out how pretty the lights were. Prettiness didn’t make them any less dangerous.

Of course, Nightwing would know that.

“Anything on your side?” Batman voice asked in their com link.

“Nothing yet”, Grayson answered. “Batgirl?”

“ _Sometimes_ we have holidays without anyone stupid enough to do something while we are on maximum alert”, she pointed out.

“If we were, Jay would have come back from Metropolis”, Damian commented.

“Maybe _he_ will enjoy Halloween for once”, Grayson muttered, mostly to himself. Then he saw Damian looking at him, and grinned. Of course.

“I’m sure _I_ will enjoy it.”

Batgirl’s laugh echoed in the com.

“Thirsty for blood, Robin? Makes me feel nostalgic.”

Damian groaned, irritated. They shared a long history, very well, they didn’t have to talk about it at every occasion. Though this time, he did understand what she meant: she was certainly comparing him to Todd. As if they were similar in any way.

More fireworks were fired – then Damian frowned. No pretty lights. Those weren’t fireworks.

“Gunshots on Park Row!” Batgirl said quickly in the com. “There apparently is someone firing in the crowd. Everyone was looking at the sky, they must have used silencers, with the noise… God, several kids are down already.”

“Make sure the police forces handle the panicking people”, Batman quiet voice commanded. “The priority for them is to prevent any crowd movement which would hurt more people and allow the shooters to run away. Keep informing us while they receive information. Nightwing, Robin, you are in Park Row already. Go. I’ll join you.”

They were flying already while Batgirl gave them more precise coordinates. Batman was right: it was very near their current position. It took them less than two minutes to arrive on site.

Everyone was panicking and the howling sirens from the police cars incoming was _not_ helping. Several bodies laid on the ground, dressed-up kids with dark capes… or yellow capes. Or green capes.

“Nightwing…”

“Batman”, Grayson said in the com link, livid. “Whoever is here is targeting kids in Batman and Robin costumes.”

“ _What?_ Robin, _stand down_ , I repeat…”

Damian didn’t wait for either of them to stop him; he jumped in the crowd.

#### ***

Dick acted on instinct, following Robin – but they were so many people, running everywhere, and screams, and parents bending over their children’s limp bodies. Another gunshot echoed and, this time, it wasn’t silenced. It only made people panic even more which probably had been the point.

“Robin!” Dick called.

He had lost contact, damnit, how could he have _lost_ him in this situation! Damian was nothing but effective, Dick rationalized. The kids – God, some were so _young_ – had been thrown by the impact, which gave an idea of where it had come from. Dick ran in that direction, jumping over people’s head – and yes, they were running _from_ there, from the danger.

“Nightwing, status”, ordered Batman’s icy voice in his hear.

Dick gritted his teeth.

“I lost Robin”, he had to admit. “I’ll find him.”

He had to.

Batman didn’t answer, probably too busy speeding to reach their position quicker. All the better, because Dick was doing exactly the same, praying to get there in time, because he didn’t want this to happen again, never again, and Damian was not _ready_ , and…

“Aaaw, isn’t that a _birdie!_ ”

Dick paled but didn’t slow down. The crowd was thinning with everyone running the other way. He saw the flicker of a cape and he just – jumped – pushing Damian aside – fire in his shoulder – and rolled with him on the grass, protecting him with his whole body.

“ _Nightwing!_ ” Damian protested. Then his eyes widened. “Are you _hurt?_ ”

Dick forced a smile on his lips but didn’t have the time to answer: the Joker resumed firing at them, chuckling madly. They separated, rolling each on one side. Dick threw two wing-dings in the same movement, not well aimed but enough to make the Joker look for cover.

Dick got himself behind a car and realized Damian had had the same reflex than him, but with a better aim: one of the Joker’s guns was lying on the ground. Considering the brat’s training, it might not have been luck. He looked around and saw him safely hiding behind a dumpster; good enough for now.

“Birdie, birdie”, the Joker sneered.

Damian tensed, making Dick go livid. No, not against _him_ – there was no way he would let him. And to avoid that, the best way probably would be to distract him until Bruce arrived.

“Come on, Joker”, Dick said. “You don’t expect us to come forward while you’re firing at us, do you? I mean, it wouldn’t even be funny.”

“I beg to differ, my dear”, the Joker protested. “I think it would be lovely to see you limping on the ground. Then we would see if you are, indeed able to fly, wouldn’t we?”

“You still consider me as a bird. I’m flattered.”

“Well you do call yourself Nightwing, don’t you? Though I like to call you birdie more. I mean, you laugh too beautifully to be the night, don’t you?”

Dick could see Damian’s eyes grow wider at every exchange. Maybe he was starting to get how crazy the guy was. Though it was strange; the Joker always liked to talk, but he never acted for no purpose. And right now? Dick was trying to play for time, but…

 _So was the Joker_.

Dick clenched his teeth. There was nothing he could do. Keeping Robin safe was the priority. He couldn’t do that if Damian attacked the Joker, which he would do at the first opportunity. Dick hoped Bruce would be there _soon_ because though the bullet didn’t actually penetrate his shoulder, it still scratched it badly. He could feel blood soaking his suit. He didn’t have _much_ time before passing out.

“You’re making me blush, here”, he finally said. “That compliment, from you? Batman is going to get jealous.”

“I’m sorry to say he never was one with a smile on his face”, the Joker sighed.

Dick’s eyes widened. _Was?_ What had the Joker done to Bruce? No. Impossible. Bruce wasn’t there yet and the Joker hadn’t left, he had not done anything to him. But then, why the past tense? Or _had_ he left?

Dick took the risk the glance above the car’s hood. A bullet soon ricochet on it, thankfully missing him. The Joker was still there. So _what?_ What _was_ his plan?

“Ah, I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you know”, the Joker said suddenly. “I wouldn’t want the big guy to catch up, right? See you soon, dear bird!”

He expected them to let him go…? Dick gasped.

“Robin, _down!_ ”

Thankfully, Damian listened – just in time. The building behind the Joker exploded in one big bang, then two others on the side. When Dick got back to his feet, the Joker was indeed gone. He wasn’t his priority anyway. He went to Damian and grabbed him by the arm.

“To the Cave.”

“But he’s getting away!”

“ _Now!_ ” Dick ordered.

Damian broke away from him. Dick winced at the sudden movement. His shoulder really needed some stiches. Soon.

Damian stopped.

“You _are_ hurt”, he accused.

“Yes. You will have to drive us back.”

“But…”

Damian looked at the flaming building, hesitating. Well, at least, he wasn’t running after the Joker all by himself this time.

“No ‘but’.” Dick didn’t give him the opportunity to protest further and activated his com. “Batman? Robin and I are retreating with the Batmobile. He isn’t injured. The Joker is on the loose. Three buildings have been destroyed but I see the GCPD arriving, they will handle this.”

“I’ll pursue”, Batman answered, and Dick knew him enough to hear both the relief and the doubtfulness in his voice.

If the Joker didn’t want to get caught for a little fight this time, there was little chance that Batman could find him, especially since he was only going to arrive in two more minutes at best. And the chances were the Joker didn’t want to be found, considering what he said.

“We’ll have to debrief later”, Dick concluded. Then, hesitating, he added. “But, B.… This time, he wasn’t there for you.”

#### ***

The evening had been _wonderful_. It had started with a gift. For him. From the Joker! Tim had _beamed_ at him when he had been presented with the red-wrapped box.

“Come one, my dear. Do open it”, the Joker had prompted.

So Tim had, grinning. It had contained a tailor-made suit. For him. And entirely black: black shirt, black pants, black waistcoat, black tie, black jacket. There even had been a black handkerchief for him to put in his front pocket.

The color of the night, instead than the sepia tones used for his clothes until now. And those were _grown man_ wear, not cute little kid ones. Tim had gasped with pleasure.

“For me? Really?”

“I’m sorry about the lack of color but I thought you might want to go unnoticed for your first night out.”

That’s when Tim had started laughing with delight.

“Come on, put it on!”

Tim had. It had fit _perfectly_ , even the gloves – a thoughtful touch. At the bottom of the box, a small, black gun and his matched holster had been waiting for him as well. Tim had let the Joker buckle it on him, blushing.

“It fits your perfectly, my dear.”

The evening then only went from good to better. They had walked around together, no one noticing them in the middle of the masquerading crowd. Tim had his left hand in the Joker’s right, and his right hand holding his gun. They had reached a park and kissed as the fireworks started above their heads. Then Tim had smiled lovingly, aimed for a little boy dressed up as Robin (as _Robin!_ ) and fired.

It had been _so_ fun! The parents hadn’t realized what happened at first, with all the noise. The first mom had actually scolded her kid for falling on the ground. Tim had fired three more Robin wanna-bes before someone started screaming, and the Joker had managed to do five Batboys in the same time – because he was the best, of course.

Unfortunately, they had had to cut it short. Panicking people were so amusing but, boringly, they had called the police – which meant the Bats also intervened. Tim had _sneered_ when he caught a glimpse of Robin’s cape but the Joker had pushed him gently away.

“Come on, now, this isn’t planned for today. Be a good kid.”

So Tim had given him his gun and received a few explosives in exchange. Planting them all around to allow the Joker to make his escape had been all too easy. They made it back to the flat almost at the same time.

The Joker grinned at him, the hands full of candies.

“Wanna some?”

Tim laughed and kissed him. They ate candies on the bed, then fucked in the middle of the wraps.

Tim had never felt happier in his life.

#### ***

Gotham’s air always tasted like steel, garbage and dust, wherever you stood. Even on the GCPD rooftop, one wasn’t clean from the air pollution. One couldn’t be blamed for preferring to taste tobacco instead, Jim thought.

“This isn’t right”, Batman stated.

Jim raised his eyebrows at him. There were alone and the signal wasn’t on; this wasn’t official business.

“This is Gotham, son. Whenever has anything been right?”

Batman growled. Jim took another puff.

“So. The Joker, then. As far as we know, he had two guns: the right hand for Robins and the left one of Batmen. He killed nine of them in a few minutes only. It does fit his MO.”

“It doesn’t”, Batman contradicted him. “He usually goes for theatrics like this to get at me. But he didn’t _wait_ for me. He got away.”

“You mean this was an introduction to something worse.”

Batman didn’t pace – it didn’t fit his persona – but he looked like he wished he could.

“Maybe.”

“What _do_ you think, son?”

“I don’t know!” Batman snapped. Then sighed. “I’m sorry, Jim. I’m a bit on edge lately.”

“You were hardly out, lately”, Jim corrected softly.

Batman tensed but Jim didn’t add anything to that. He didn’t know the specifics anyway. He merely had eyes to notice Robin had suddenly disappeared from the roof and, at the same time, Batman had suddenly changed voice. Not that Nightwing had even tried to pretend to be the same person, all grinning and calling him ‘commissioner’. Huh.

And now, Batman was Batman again and there was another Robin.

After a while, Batman relaxed. Exhaustion was showing on his face. Jim crushed his cigarette on the roof border.

“Usually we work double-shifts when he’s out”, Jim said. “But it’s been six months since his breakout; I had to drop it after one, we’re only people. Last week was the first time we heard about him.”

“He is up to something.”

“When isn’t he?” Jim sighed.

Batman had no answer to that.

“I’ll put a team on this”, Jim finally said. “Since we know he’s in Gotham, now. But if he lies low for more than a month again, it will have to be volunteers.”

Batman looked at him. Jim snorted.

“Yes, I know. There’s going to be a queue.”

To say some people thought Batman never smiled.

“You’d better bench the kids, though.”

“Batgirl is on monitoring duty”, Batman answered quickly. Then groaned. “She should also be able to make sure Robin doesn’t get out of the Cave.”

Jim chuckled.

“Kids, right?”

Batman groaned again. Jim smiled, remembering a younger, harsher man, so sure he would be able to save Gotham all by himself, not trusting anyone but himself, even not cops – which, at the time, meant he at least had some sense. It had taken a tragedy and the smile of a sunny boy to drag him out of his own darkness. And now – well, he had a family. Jim considered it a good thing.

“So how _are_ the kids? Don’t tell me about Nightwing, I really don’t want to know”, he added, teasing.

Batman didn’t blush, because Batman could not, in fact, blush. He defaulted to blank whenever embarrassed and that happened very rarely.

“He is fine.”

“What about the others? I know Jay is retired. Robin seems even worse than he was, though.”

Batman might not blush but he could look as if he had bitten into a lemon.

“It is a way to put it.”

Jim laughed softly. He was about to ask another question when Batman suddenly retreated into the shadows. Then he heard steps and steel creaking, the noise of someone climbing the stairs to the roofs, panting and cursing. Bullock, then.

The door opened.

“When will you finally stop coming up here to brood?” Bullock groaned. “It’s bad for my health.”

“Probably the day you’ll start washing that mouth of yours”, Jim amiably answered. “What happened?”

“Is the Bat there?”

Jim rolled his eyes.

“Do I look like a seer to you?”

“He’d better come quickly if he ain’t, ‘cause we found somethin’.”

Jim sighed. That usually meant a corpse, especially if Bullock took the time to come up the roof himself.

“Like what?”

“Like a corpse.”

No surprise, there. But then Bullock took a step forward, his face grim, and added:

“ _Harley Quinn’s_ corpse.”

#### ***

The day had started like this.

Tim had woken up content. The bed was still warm from the sex they had had the night before – it was getting better, _good_ even – and full of the Joker’s smell. He had lounged there for some time, enjoying the feeling of safety. He was not used to it yet. If felt even better than the sex.

Then he had gotten up because the sun was getting high and, who knew? Maybe the Joker would be there soon. He had showered, and pointedly _not_ combed his hair. He hated it anyway. The Joker wouldn’t leave him now, or ever, they were so _great_ together!

He put on his black shirt and pants and waistcoat, then one of the Joker’s purple jackets because, _smell_. He ate a few candies because they smelled like him, then took care of his new, shining gun – he’d have to get more of those, and maybe a few knives too, if the Joker would teach him – then looked at the boring, gray outside.

The clock was ticking and the time passing. The sun set. No stars started shining because, _Gotham_ – all pollution and no style. Tim waited. And waited.

No one came.

At nine, he started pacing.

It was alright. He was _late_. Actually, he wasn’t; he hadn’t actually confirmed he would be there. Tim had just gotten used to the Joker spending all his nights at the flat but there had been a time when he did not. He had made Tim _beg_ for him to stay there. It was just – since last week – it had been every night. So maybe Tm had _assumed_ …

But it was alright if he wasn’t there. Totally alright.

(Right?)

At ten, he was chewing on his gloves.

Why didn’t he _call?_ He had checked the news, there had been no explosions around Gotham so he wasn’t _busy_. Did something happen to him? Tim rolled his eyes by hearing himself think that. How stupid. Nothing could happen to _the Joker_. _He_ happened to people.

By eleven, he had gone through all the stages of desperation.

 _Why wasn’t he there?_ Did he _left him?_ No. No, no, no. He had been a _good boy!_

He hasn’t been abandoned _again!_

At midnight, Tim finally remembered that he wasn’t locked in anymore. He could just walk out to find him.

He started by the warehouse.

It was a new one, of course; the place which had held Tim had been compromised by his little yoga therapy – _oops_ – and they had had to burn it down to cover their tracks. But warehouses were like fungus in Gotham: they grew up everywhere and you usually found a lot more of them than you’d like. The bright side of it was, they were real cheap.

Tim arrived there pissed, because he had had to leave the too recognizable Joker’s jacket at the flat and borrow some passerby’s coat since he didn’t have one. He had not _killed_ the guy, of course. It would have been the best way to lose the flat too and he _liked_ the flat, it was his place. Kind of like a home, only better, because the Joker visited him there.

The warehouse was full of boxes full of weapons, and also a few candy machines and carnival decors. There were, however, a few habitable rooms on the back. Tim knew that was where the Joker spent his time when he wasn’t at the flat, mostly with Harley Quinn. That also was where _she_ lived. If the Joker wasn’t there, she would know where he was.

She’d better, anyway.

Turned out Tim didn’t have to ask. He heard the moans even before reaching the bedroom and they were explicit enough. Strangely, he felt himself relax while he approached. The door wasn’t even closed. He leaned on the doorframe, watching.

Harley was riding him, gasping at every thrust, giggling, her plastic-perfect breast bouncing at the same rhythm than her bunches. He was grinning, of course, and his grin widened even more when he saw him.

“Does she feel as good as me?” Tim snorted.

The Joker laughed while Harley snarled. She couldn’t get to Tim without stopping, though, and since she’d finally managed to get him to fuck her, there were very little chances that she would do just that. Tim smirked.

“So?”

“Feels different”, the Joker answered, chuckling.

“Different how?”

“Get the hell out, birdie”, Harley barked.

The Joker ignored her to answer Tim’s question.

“Wetter”, he said. “Softer.”

But not better, Tim noted. His smirk widened.

“Do you think she would feel as good if she was dead?” he asked amiably.

Harley didn’t even have the decency to look afraid. Instead, she smiled at him vengefully and rode the Joker harder. That got a moan out of him and she smirked. Tim had not stopped smiling, himself, and he got his gun out.

“I hoped you would finally have learnt that I am no bird anymore, Harleen.”

She didn’t even squeal when the bullet hit her. No sense of dramatic. The blood splashed nicely on the Joker, though, who laughed harder. Tim blew his gun’s barrel like a cowboy then put it back in his holster. The Joker was still moving but apparently wasn’t satisfied with a corpse’s lack of responsiveness.

They pushed it aside and Tim removed his pants and guided him in, _deep_. It hurt, but not as much as the first time. The Joker fucked him, laughing, and Tim started to laugh as well, like this was the best joke ever. It took them quite a while to finish because, hey, laughing so hard and fucking at the same time wasn’t given to just anybody.

They dumped her naked corpse in Gotham’s river later in the night. She would resurface but the water would clean up any evidence.

They walked away hand in hand, not even waiting for the body to sink below the surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to point out that I actually like Harley, enough so to have cosplayed her once. Unfortunately, Tim has obvious reasons not to.  
> Please let me know if you like the story so far :)


	3. Red as blood

When Damian had arrived in his father’s life, he had been full of pride and of the absolute certitude he would be offered his rightful place soon. Why would he not? It was just a matter of proving his worth – there was no doubt he _was_ worthy. Wasn’t he of his blood? Wasn’t he the best fighter of the league, except for his mother and grand-father? Well, and maybe a few others. But still, way above anyone else his age.

The realization that what Damian had been taught to be valor differed from his father definition of the term had hurt hard. However, Grayson’s and Todd’s advices had not seemed difficult to follow and, after all, Damian _was_ perfect. Of course he would manage to adapt, even if it meant following a set of stupid rules.

Now, however…

“I’m telling you I’m _fine_ ”, Grayson was arguing.

Batman didn’t even look up from the screen.

“You are not patrolling as long as your shoulder isn’t healed.”

“It _is!_ ”

“Alfred?”

“I’m afraid you might benefit from a few more days of rest, Master Richard.”

Grayson glared at the butler, because of the lack of support or the use of his full name, Damian wasn’t sure. Either way, he stepped in.

“Don’t act like a child. There is no shame in resting”, he added, in an effort to soften his intervention.

“I’m not to be ordered around!” Grayson pouted.

This time, Batman did look up, frowning. He didn’t say a word but his glare was enough to make Grayson wince.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know the limit of my abilities, Bruce, I don’t need you to mother me.”

“All the members of this family are well known not to overwork themselves.”

Batman’s dry sense of humor didn’t make anyone laugh. Even Damian didn’t feel like he had any right to smirk: it was his fault if Grayson had been hurt. They were lucky the bullet had touched his shoulder, not his heart.

“It’s been a _month_ , Bruce, we can’t afford to have only you on patrol…”

“Robin accompanies me.”

“And what if you find _him?_ ”

“Then he will call in Batgirl while I come back to the Cave on my own”, Damian intervened again, keeping his tone haughty as if bored. “I assure you I know the way by heart.”

They looked at him, Batman wondering, Grayson stunned. Then they both frowned and resumed their conversation, ignoring him. Damian pointedly did _not_ grit his teeth: he had been behaving since Halloween and intended to continue.

“We could ask Jason…” Grayson started.

“Jason is doing fine in Metropolis. I am not dragging him back into this.”

Grayson _looked_ at Batman. Who ignored him. Unfortunately, he took that as an invitation to voice his concern.

“You trust Luthor, now?”

“Jason handles him well. And Luthor seems willing to protect Jason from everyone else. He _is_ efficient.”

“You trust Luthor.”

“To be efficient? Yes.”

Grayson’s frustration was starting to show. Not that he was ever good at hiding his emotions. Damian decided he had had enough and put a hand on his arm. The touch was remarkable enough to get his full attention this time.

“You are not getting out as long as you are not healed”, Damian stated. “We do not need to drag a dead weight around”, he added, for good measure.

Grayson blinked at him, then _smiled_.

“You are worrying over me.”

Damian tutted.

“I am not. I am merely concerned with your lack of performance, which would put us all in danger if you come along.”

“Because you will have to cover me.”

Damian cast him an annoyed look.

“Obviously.”

Then he had to back off because Grayson was trying to hug him.

“We do need someone to work on the investigation, actually”, Batman said, removing his cowl to look at them directly. “The current situation is… worrying.”

Damian titled his head. Though there had been several hits wearing the Joker’s signature, there had been no major mayhem since Halloween. Actually, the targets had mostly been mobsters, not even civilians. So what was he talking about?

“You’re right”, Grayson sighed, and why was everyone aware of something wrong but Damian? “I guess I will skip it tonight. Again.”

“Make it the whole week. He is up to something.”

Damian bit his lips. He would _not_ ask. Asking for explanations was beneath him. But they should be providing them anyway!

“I _could_ ask for Jason’s help on that. He wouldn’t have to leave Metropolis and he’s always been imaginative.”

“If you must.”

Damian relaxed. He would be able to overhear their conversation since he’d bugged the Cave with his own devices. His father had spotted him – and nodded in approval. Apparently, being paranoid was one of those things Batman _and_ the League approved.

Batman put his cowl back on.

“Do not hesitate to ask for assistance if needed”, Grayson insisted.

“We won’t need any. Robin?”

Damian straightened.

“Let’s patrol.”

#### ***

Lex’s hands gripped his hips with enough force for Jason to be sure he’d have ten perfect little bruises the next morning, and his teeth were closing on his shoulder, vicious. His cock, however, was. Not. Moving.

“ _Lex_ , for God’s… nhh.”

“Yes?” the businessman asked, conversationally.

“Stop _playing_.”

Lex’s deep laugh caressed his ear.

“You love it when I play.”

Jason tried to move, pushing his elbows on the desk he was pinned on, but barely managed to arch – and Lex bit him on the throat, this time. Jason fought back a moan.

“So?”

“You’re a sick old man, you know that right?”

“I’m not the one begging for more.”

“I’m not _beg_ … _God!_ ” Jason moaned as Lex thrust, just once. “Alright, alright, I’m _begging_ , now _please_ …”

Then the computer screen which was right before Jason’s nose turned on. Dick was a gorgeous man but his face was not exactly something Jason wanted to see in a moment like this.

“Holy supervillain, Batman. Sorry, sorry, please call back later?”

“ _Hang the fuck up Grayson!_ ”

“Or at least don’t look so shocked”, Lex commented, and Jason could _see_ him arch an eyebrow. “I am quite sure you found yourself in such position at some point.”

Dick _blushed_ of all things to do in the world, and now, Lex was smirking, for sure.

“If Bruce isn’t up to the task, please don’t hesitate to join in…”

Jason narrowed his eyes and _pushed_ on his elbows, getting Lex deeper and dragging a strangled noise out of him.

“Yes, _do hesitate_ ”, Jason concluded. “We are very well on our own, don’t we, Lex?”

“Right, see you later”, Dick blabbed, finally shutting down the damn com.

Lex licked his previously bitten shoulder.

“Aren’t we feeling possessive today?”

“I’m _always_ possessive, you jerk. Now pray fuck me so I can call my gorgeous, _off-limits_ brother.”

“Pity.”

Jason kicked Lex into the armchair and _sat_ on him, riding him hard enough to make his point. Lex was soon past silly comments on his attitude and just gripped his hips to make him go quicker. At which point, of course, Jason stopped.

“You were saying?”

He just _loved_ how Lex was able to look so damn dangerous, his eyes narrowed, exuding authority out every pore.

“ _Ride_.”

It sounded more like a demand than a plea, but well. Jason started riding again, slowly, rolling his hips in the precise rhythm Lex loved, his muscles aching deliciously with effort. It didn’t take long for the criminal to spend himself inside Jason, with a groan. He didn’t wait then to grab Jason’s cock to help him finish.

Jason sighed with satisfaction.

“I’ll have to shower before I can call him back.”

“Please do. I’ll be waiting here.”

Jason got up, snorting.

“Tired already? That’s what happens when old men take young lovers.”

“Do you _want_ to spend the week begging for release?”

“Promises, promises.”

Jason closed the shower’s door on himself before Lex could get creative. Better not to push him.

Also, having a shower next to his office was a good idea. Jason had no idea how often Lex used it before, but he certainly had proved its advantages since he had come into the picture. He washed quickly and grabbed another shirt and suit pants – they also always had fresh clothes at hand – before going back into the office.

Lex looked at him as if he wanted to go for it again. He had not moved, merely buttoned his pants; as often when they had sex at the office, he had not removed any other piece of clothing except for his tie. Jason had nothing against it. He also had nothing against Lex peeling his own clothes away – seeing Jason in a suit always made him hungry for it.

Well. Dick could wait a few more minutes, considering how rudely he had interrupted. Jason smirked – and got on his knees.

Ten minutes later, he was turning the com back on while Lex showered.

“So, what the big deal?” Jason asked.

“I’m really sorry about this…”

“Just don’t do it _again_ and be happy the brat wasn’t with you.”

Dick winced at that. _Good_.

“So?”

“I just wanted your input on something. The Joker is been acting out of character.”

Jason glared.

“Do you realize it is actually 11PM and it’s bed time for normal people who actually get up in the morning to go to work?”

Dick looked dubitative at this.

“Alright, spit.”

“He’s been targeting mobsters. Two warehouses, to get weapons as far as we know, but also several places where they just stocked drugs or money. He destroys them. Takes the money sometimes. Never resells the merchandise.”

Jason frowned.

“He also took down some of the lieutenants”, Dick continued. “They were the only specific targets. I mean, there have been collateral damages, but…”

“But he specifically killed highly ranked mobsters”, Jason finished.

“Yes.”

Jason drummed his fingers on the desk.

“It makes no sense. The Joker is much more organized than he pretends to be, but this, this feels like he’s planning a takeover.”

And why the hell would he do that? Gotham was his playground, not a place for business. The Joker _had no business_ to do, he was not interested in it.

“So that’s how you see it too”, Dick sighed.

“It’s impossible. And also too obvious”, Jason pointed out. “I mean, if the Joker wanted to take over Gotham, he wouldn’t advertise it so… would he?”

“Who are you kidding?” asked Lex’s voice from behind him.

Jason turned. Lex was just stepping out of the bathroom, his suit pristine perfect as always. He was frowning.

“This is the Joker. If he wanted to take over Gotham, he would _paint it on the roofs_.”

Jason tensed; on the screen, Dick looked grim.

Because the problem was, Lex was right.

#### ***

The Joker was pouting. It was something he was very good at, with that mouth of his. He was also stamping his foot like a petulant child.

“Why should I attack Falcone _again?_ ” he asked. “He is _boring_.”

“It’s a distraction”, Tim explained, while thinking they could use the money considering how quickly the Joker burned it.

The criminal slapped him gently.

“It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Well, having money is great”, Tim admitted. “It allows us to have more toys.”

“We could just rob a bank!” the Joker protested.

Tim grinned.

“Yes, but the mobsters are _also_ a distraction. Besides, robbing banks is _so_ déjà vu.”

The pout slowly turned into a smirk.

“You evil child. Come here.”

Tim left the desk and his numerous color pencil-written plans to settle on the Joker’s lap. He breathed his smell, relaxing when his hands rested on the small of his back.

They had been busy lately, Tim coming up with big plans and the Joker glad to cause mayhem wherever he could. Playing cat and mouse with Batman was also funny, considering Batman kept expecting them to spin out of control.

Rightfully so, of course. Soon, the Bats will be distracted enough for the Joker to move to his real target and to have some fun.

A hand brushed Tim’s belly, making him giggle.

“We should shower first”, he said. “I feel all sweaty from the day.”

“You’re so _fussy_ ”, the Joker complained, but followed him nonetheless to the bathroom.

Tim purred under the warm water, while the Joker’s make up melted away. Green and red, mixed with the water. Hah…

(It felt good to be clean.)

“I should call you Jack”, Tim said while they sprawled on the bed. “When you’re like this. You’re like another person, but still you.”

“Like wearing a mask… A secret identity!” the Joker sniggered.

Tim smiled.

“Exactly.”

#### ***

Bruce’s breath was visible in the cold air; winter was close. It wasn’t snowing yet but the last two nights had been freezing. Soon, they will have to be even more careful, with icy water on the roofs and all the white making cover more difficult to find.

“What are we waiting for?” Robin asked at his side.

He had been behaving since Halloween, which was a relief. Moreover, not having Nightwing around all the time had forced them to work together, to solve their own issues. Bruce still felt at loss about what to do with the child sometimes, but they were getting closer to an actual partnership every night.

“Jim Gordon told me he would give me a copy of the ballistic report from James Manhill’s murder”, Bruce explained. “It was supposed to be done today.”

Robin nodded. The real reason which pushed Bruce to come more often to the GCPD was that he hoped to have news about Harley Quinn’s murder. The ballistic had revealed the gun had been the same as the one used on Halloween – as if the Joker had been the one pulling the trigger.

This was, however, pure conjecture. Maybe someone had grabbed the gun, maybe they had been fighting – but they, why dump the body in the river? Why naked? The gun hadn’t popped up in any other murder since, had it ended up in the water as well?

And there had been no retribution. Nothing. Just this strange change of MO. It was still the Joker, though. He had not been on site for every raid but Batman had been, more often than not. A few times, he had spotted him and chased him – he had had to because the Joker never stayed to _play_. Unfortunately, even his escape routes had been carefully planned. Even his trackers had been crushed too quickly for him to follow.

Not once had the Joker called him names. No Basty, no _darling_.

Something had happened, and it had started with Harley Quinn’s death – or shortly before, at Halloween, where she had not been present while she _was actually out of Arkham_. They needed to solve the case. Bruce was sure it was the key for more.

“I don’t see him in the building”, Robin suddenly said.

Bruce frowned. The child was looking at the GCPD through infrared binoculars. They couldn’t possibly be precise enough for him to distinguish Jim from any other policeman.

“I mean, his office is empty. I have been looking at the window since we arrived, one hour ago, and I didn’t see anyone getting out of it, so he must have left before that. It’s too long for a pause or him just talking to someone. They are not on alert currently, are they?”

Bruce shook his head, frowning. The best way to check was to get closer. He dropped, grappling silently to get to the building. He had aimed the rooftop’s border and made sure to land right next the window. It was closed but it had broken a few months before during a terrible raid organized by the Penguin, and it was easy enough to hear the conversations.

It took several minutes before anyone mentioned Jim.

“He isn’t back yet?” asked Bullock’s gravelly voice. “He said he had to go back home, he had forgotten his wallet, but he should have be back already.”

“Maybe he stopped somewhere”, someone said, maybe Alvarez; the voice was too muffled for Bruce to be sure. “He likes to wander in the city sometimes.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Bruce frowned. Usually, he would have stopped at that, but they had specifically agreed to meet on the rooftop this evening. Jim knew his patrol started at 10. He also knew Batman often was too busy later in the night to come back to the GCPD for a chat.

He deactivated the grapple and glided back to the building across the street, where Robin had been waiting.

“So?”

Bruce activated his com. Dick answered quickly.

“Yes?”

“Is Batgirl online?”

“Not yet. She should be soon.”

“Can you call her directly?”

“Just a sec. B., she isn’t answering, has something happened?”

Bruce tensed at the news.

“Probably nothing. I’ll still check the Gordon’s house, just in case.”

“Alright, keep me updated.”

Bruce looked at Damian, who nodded: he had heard their conversation. They went toward the house, which was several blocks away, in a quiet neighborhood. Jim had chosen well when he had settled. Back then, freshly back in Gotham, he had had a pregnant wife and certainly had expected his family to expand even more.

“Take the window”, Bruce ordered. “I’ll be at the door.”

Robin nodded and went around the house silently. Bruce waited for him to be in place, then went to the front door.

It had been forced. Bruce tensed.

“Robin?”

“I’m opening the window.”

“Be careful, someone might already be there. The door was forced.”

He pushed it, opening it slowly… Barbara laid on the ground, naked, surrounded by glass from the broken table, a bullet wound in the belly.

#### ***

It was all the Joker’s idea. Tim had provided with the distraction, the useful but boring stuff; the Joker had decided by himself what the main attraction would be. He had asked Tim if he would come, though, and Tim had said yes because he had to _see_.

He had been wearing his black suit and a clown mask, just a shadow among the other thugs. They all had been wearing masks, to hide him, like a tree in a forest. It was so easy.

Walking in had been easy too. Ringing at the familiar door, then break it open when Barbara had tried to close it. The Joker had fired at her, making Tim jump. It was… it was…

(Perfect.)

The commissioner had screamed, of course. The Joker had nodded at Tim, who had punched him unconscious while one of the thugs held him. It had felt – like a dream. Like being reborn.

He was there, alive, walking in this world.

(He. Was. There. _Hello world!_ )

They had stripped Barbara naked and taken pictures. Tim had heard the Joker’s breath grow short in front of the muscled, bloody body. That hadn’t been part of the plan, but who were they to ever follow any plan?

Tim had ordered the thugs to take Gordon to the amusement park, telling them they would join them later.

Then the Joker had taken her, strong, beautiful Barbara. She had cried, not because it hurt but because she couldn’t feel anything. Tim had kept taking pictures, all vivid details of it. Snap, snap, all was in the box! Then she had fainted and stopped crying.

Tim had kissed the Joker’s neck when he’d come.

Then Tim had cleaned any evidence out of her, and they had left for the amusement park. This had only been the starter.

Everything was ready when they arrived. The décor was _grandiose_ , Tim had to admit. The Joker knew how to do things well.

He stepped in the shadows for what followed. This wasn’t his part; only the Joker’s. It was already a lot to see it – it was _fascinating_.

Dwarves in silly clothes stripped the commissioner naked just as he was waking up. There was no sex this time – thankfully, Jim Gordon being much too old for Tim’s tastes, though, hey, he _was_ fit for his age – and the prisoner was dragged to the Joker, waiting on his throne. There was a lot of talking, some threats on both sides, then he was sent into the ghost trail.

Tim knew what was inside because he had been the one taking the pictures, then picking them. They had been directly downloaded to a server connected to the ghost house. He had chosen which one to put in which slot while they had been driving back.

He had only put those of Barbara naked before the Joker had done anything to her. _Those_ pictures were only for them.

(He should probably develop them later on. It really was a pity that he had had to work with a numeric camera, but there had been no time in their schedule for proper argentic one.)

Much later – much, much later, they had made it quite long – the commissioner got out of the ghost rail. He was crying. Apparently, it ran in the family!

(Yes, that was the tone.)

The Joker was talking again, making his show. He loved it. He really was a stage man, a performer.

(Like Dick.)

But then, Tim’s cellphone beeped. He went to the Joker to whisper to his ear.

“He is coming. We should go.”

“Aww _, already?_ But it’s only been three hours!”

Which fit Tim’s estimation, within a margin of 5%. Tim smiled under his mask.

“He is quick like that.”

“Oh, well. ‘Afraid I have to go, my dear commissioner. We will see each other again soon, I’m sure!”

They left, leaving Jim Gordon’s cage alone in the empty amusement park.

#### ***

Damian felt sick in the stomach. He had not been sent back to the Cave, in the end: his father had preferred to keep him close rather than sending him away. Maybe because the Joker had finally been back in character. Maybe because he felt he should break habit. Maybe because there was no one at the Cave, since Nightwing was standing watch on Barbara Gordon at the hospital.

The point was, they had arrived together at the amusement park. They had found Commissioner Gordon together. And the pictures. All those pictures…

“Robin.”

Damian looked up to his father, who put a hand on his shoulder.

“We’re going home. The police are there, they will take care of Jim.”

“What about _him_?”

“He left before we arrived.”

Damian nodded dizzily. The Batmobile was parked in the middle of the grass. They drove back to the Cave in Gotham’s night, lights blurring into one straight line.

Todd was waiting for them.

“Where is he?” he asked straightaway.

It was hard to see when Batman frowned, but he usually set his jaw at the same time, which was much more visible even in the cowl.

“Gone.”

“And what are you doing to _stop him?_ ”

“Not now, Jason.”

“He got _Babs!_ ” Jason yelled. “She might never walk again, do you realize that? She might…”

“Jason, _enough_.”

Damian straightened instantly even though the reprieve wasn’t aimed at him. Apparently, this was part of being a Robin and never went away because so did Jason.

“We will stop him”, Bruce continued quietly. “Just not tonight. Go to the hospital. Talk to her. She will need friends.”

Something broke in Jason’s expression.

“She might never _walk_ again.”

This situation shouldn’t be handled by them, Damian decided. Where was Luthor when one needed him?

“Where is Lex?” his father asked, reaching the same conclusion.

“Upstairs.”

Now, even with the cowl, it was easy to see Batman was angry. He however mastered his tone when asking:

“You invited Lex Luthor to my house?”

“I didn’t let him downstairs, I’m not crazy. It’s just… He wouldn’t let me come by myself, and I was not going to stay in Metropolis.”

Batman sighed.

“Go to the hospital. Dick is there. Send him back here so he can sleep for three or four hours. I’ll take the morning shift.”

Jason looked at him, then nodded silently and headed back upstairs. Damian didn’t really know what to say. Barbara had always been a reliable ally, usually friendly. She wasn’t entirely part of the family, but she was… a friend?

“What can I do?” he asked his father.

Batman removed his cowl. His face was visibly tired. He put a hand on Damian’s head.

“Just be there”, he said, then he added. “Just be safe.”

#### ***

They finished the night at the flat. Tim removed jacket to put one of the Joker’s instead and put on some music. He had a disk made at his request, with depressing love songs. It started with a frenetic waltz, so they danced. They danced, because they were happy, and the music was beautiful and creepy.

Tim smiled, his cheek against the Joker’s shoulder, his body in the Joker’s hands, his nose smelling the Joker’s scent. He was only safe when he was with him.

The night was perfect.

No, not perfect – _special_.

The Joker felt it too. He invited him to dance again, then again, until they started laughing and couldn’t dance anymore. Then he looked at Tim, in his pristine dark suit, with his big shadowed eyes and his purple jacket, and he grinned.

“Sit down at the dressing table. Come on, my dear.”

Tim didn’t dare to hope. He went and sat, straight, wondering if maybe… and yes: the Joker took his own make up and sat next to him.

“You helped me a lot, tonight and all previous nights”, he said, opening up the whites and reds. “It is time you get your rightful place. Isn’t it?”

Tim nodded, not trusting his voice enough to speak.

The Joker talked while he put make up on him. It was a lesson of art; a creation.

“You decide who you are, when you wear a mask”, he explained. “Then, it becomes your _face_ , you see? Or you become the mask, I always have those backwards. And there is nothing more, just that new face of yours, that you choose for yourself.”

“Like Batman?” Tim dared to ask.

The Joker giggled.

“ _Exactly_ like Batman. Or Robin.”

“Or you”, Tim said.

The Joker kissed him, then started dyeing his hair. It felt so good, to feel his strong hands working on him, making him anew. It was like being born. It was like being given a name.

And it was so easy! As easy as to grab a gun silently. As easy as to have had it ready all along. As easy as to pull the trigger, blood splashing everywhere from the Joker’s chest.

“Oh, my boy”, the Joker coughed. “Really?”

Tim smiled tenderly.

“There can only be one, can’t it?”

The Joker laughed, or tried to. His legs failed him and he had to sit on the bed. Tim trembled, with joy and despair, because he would always be safe now, because this was the punch line. Because he would lose Jack.

“One last kiss?” the Joker asked.

“One last”, Tim agreed.

They kissed, and there was blood in the Joker’s mouth, and he coughed. Giving birth hurt.

“Bye, bye, my love”, Jack said.

“Flatterer.”

Except it wasn’t a lie. They did love each other. Tim would miss him horribly. It hurt – but being born was supposed to hurt. Wasn’t it?

(Wasn’t it?)

The Joker slipped on the ground, his back against the bed. The disk was back at the beginning, which was fitting. The music waltzed around the room, quick, like the Joker’s breath wasn’t anymore, beating where his heart slowed, and one-two-three, _c’est l’amour qui vous larme, vous laisse sans armes, nu comme un oiseau blessé qui qui tombe et reste seul face à la mort_.

Then the music fell silent. The entire flat – was perfectly silent. Tim’s breath was the only one remaining – no. No. The Joker’s breath was the only one remaining, while Jack’s corpse was on the ground.

The Joker grinned. He had a lot to plan. He had to go back to the warehouse and call for the boys, because they had a _lot_ to do.

He took his hat, his gloves – a little too big, really, he should find himself another tailor – and left. He made sure to also wear his coat and scarfs: outside, it was starting to snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so this was the Killing Joke :) It happened much sooner in the comics, right after Jason died. I feel like the Joker had other things to do here, so that is was only natural it would happen later - and differently.  
>  _L'amour à mort_ is a wonderfully creepy song by Le Cirque des mirages.  
>  For those who didn't figure it out, Tim was the narrator since the beginning. There has been no intervention of the narrator in True Love because he was already there.
> 
> Please let me know if you like it! You have no idea how stressed I am right now, about to post this.


End file.
